SFB: II
They follow the man into the hotel, and Marcus ignores the decadent luxury surrounding them in favor of a sharp look at the man as he pauses.
The man mutters an apology, and quickly leads them through the lobby and down one of the corridors to one of the banquet and conference rooms. He pauses at the door, gesturing to it. "In here, sir."
The conference room is in stark contrast to the rest of the hotel; comfortable enough, but definitely a place of business, the decadence toned down so as not to interfere with the goings on of the gentlemen seated around the table.
The man at the head of the table, one Victor Perez by name, looks up and smiles coolly.
"Ah, Mr. Goldberg. Please, join us."
"Mr. Perez," Marcus says, with a faint smile. "Of course," he adds, nodding slightly, and ignoring Theirn. He steps forward smoothly, taking the empty chair at the end of the table, and leaning back into it comfortably.
It is not, in fact, a particularly comfortable chair. But after the chairs in Thacker's office, it is remarkably comfortable indeed.
Theirn moves to stand behind Marcus's chair, eyes cast down and hands linked loosely behind his back, ignoring the glances of the other men around the table. Perez nods slightly, smirking.
"Well-trained. Mr. Goldberg, I'm assuming you know the situation in this city currently."
He smiles blandly at Perez, cane twisting absently in his grip again. "Of course he is. I've had him for years, after all. Still a bit uppity on occasion, but it doesn't take much to remind him of his place. Nice to have one that still has some spirit about him, wouldn't you say?"
Marcus lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "I do, yes, although I suppose technically it's possible I've missed something. Do, please, fill me in."
"Naturally. Some of my colleagues advocate beating the spirit out of them, but a mindless automaton is enjoyable for very few people."
His smile turns colder, though the chilliness isn't aimed at Marcus. "Very well. As I'm sure you're aware, the gentlemen and I have been the major powers in this city for as long as anyone cares to remember. However, of late there seem to be some... nuisancy rivals who appear to want to wrest that title from us. Given the power you're reputed to have cultivated, we thought it prudent to meet with you and give you the opportunity to throw your lot in with us."
He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Naturally, you are free to refuse. We are not petty thugs, we don't kill people for wishing to remain neutral in such affairs. But make no mistake, Mr. Goldberg, this city is heading for war."
"Wars are bad for business, Mr. Perez," Marcus says calmly. "To be certain, my holdings are diversified enough that I wouldn't suffer unduly, but... some of my favorite occupations would be rather diminished, and I don't believe I'd particularly like that." He gives Perez a wintry little smile. "And I would hardly make the mistake of calling you fine gentlemen petty thugs, no matter what."
"Consolidating our power base should intimidate them into holding back until we orchestrate our next move," one of the other men notes. "As for your favourite occupations being diminished..." he rakes his gaze over Theirn, smile sharpening. "I'm afraid one of our rivals is very proud of his little stable, and he doesn't take kindly to competition. Or refusals from those he fancies."
Marcus turns his smile on the man. "Mr... Stewart, is it not?" The man nods, smile fading slightly. "I'm well aware of Mr. Wrede's little habits, believe me. Don't think I haven't had a tangle or two with him already."
"Then you can understand why we are disinclined to have his sort running around our city," Perez says, his tone warning. Stewart leans back, feigning disinterest and gazing calmly at Marcus.
"Of course," Marcus replies, sounding suitably chastened, while returning Stewart's gaze just as calmly.
After a moment he glances back at Perez. "What, precisely, do you want from me?"
"That would depend, Mr. Goldberg, on whether you are willing to bring your not inconsiderable power against these interlopers or not. As I said, we are not petty thugs to kill those who don't wish to involve themselves in our business, so you and your pet may leave unharmed if that is your wish. However, I think you'd find that the benefits of allying with my associates and I outweigh the risks."
"Let us say, for the sake of argument, that I do choose to join you. In what manner would you ask for my assistance?"
"If it became known that you were allied with us, it would put a definite crimp on our rivals' plans; they are working under the assumption that our obvious power is our only power. And then there are certain of our rivals who can be... eliminated... with the proper tools."
Perez's voice is fairly calm, and at that last sentence his eyes flick briefly to Theirn for a moment before returning to Marcus.
Marcus smiles, blandly, and does not miss the flicker in Perez's gaze.
"Perhaps we should stop being hypothetical, then?"
"Very well. Most of our rivals I am fairly certain we can eliminate without resorting to assassination. There are three, however, who would best serve us post-mortem, and one in particular who, while being rather more powerful than the others, has a weakness for... shall I say, men who resemble your pet there." His smile turns glacial. "Surely I don't have to elaborate for a man of your intelligence."
"Surely not," Marcus murmurs, with a faint smile. "You realize, of course, that I don't generally care to share my toys, hmm? What is it that you offer for me to gain? I might, after all, choose to remain neutral in this war of yours, no matter how my own businesses might be affected. Nothing has been agreed, as of yet."
One of the other men snorts. "It's not a wise idea to get too attached to them, Mr. Goldberg. I'd've thought a man in your position would've realised that."
"Daniels." Perez's gaze doesn't flicker away from Marcus. "Shut up. As for what I offer you, Mr. Goldberg... power, position... influence in the underworld courts, which is not something to be extended lightly, you understand."
There is a strange edge to his smile. "By all means, take some time to think on my offer. Take the night, as long as you wish. I'm sure by morning you'll find reasons enough to at least consider what I offer you."
"Ahh, but that's not what I'm looking for, Mr. Perez. I already have reason enough to consider your kind and generous offer. To accept it, now... those will be interesting reasons, if I find them, don't you think?"
He returns Perez's smile, and does not bother to look at Daniels.
"As I said. Take the night to consider. I am contactable when you have decided."
He stands fluidly.
"Gentlemen. This meeting is over."
Marcus is still smiling, just slightly, and is not the first to stand after Perez, but is not the last, either.
Nor is he the first to leave, any more than he's the last.
They stand in the foyer, just inside the door, as they wait for the limousine to pull up.
Stewart walks up beside them.
Quietly, "I'd consider it, if I were you." A hand drifts over Theirn's shoulder and jaw, pressing slightly against the bruise. "This one won't last long if Wrede gets an eyeful of him."
The end of Marcus's cane is pressed, very lightly, against Stewart's throat.
"I don't believe you asked my permission to touch him."
"My apologies."
He removes his hand, not quite as quickly as he should. Theirn hasn't moved.
"Mm."
Marcus watches him, expression cold and unyielding, and it's another moment before the end of his cane is resting on the ground again, just as quickly.
"I protect my investments, Mr. Stewart. Bear that in mind."
"Of course, Mr. Goldberg."
Stewart smiles and leaves as the limousine pulls up.
Marcus waits for the driver to open the door, and then turns and looks at Theirn for the first time since they'd left the car.
"Get in, mon petit," he says, his tone bored.
Theirn nods and gets in the car, not looking up, going over the meeting in his mind.
There'd been a threat at the end there, but he's not entirely sure of the nature of it.
Marcus follows, settling himself on the seat, and is silent until the car is in drive again. He pulls off both gloves, tossing them into the seat across from him, and lets the cane rest against the door again.
A quiet whispered word, and there's a point of light shining in the air above his hand. A few more, and a few muffled sizzling noises from the corners of the limousine's interior, and then the salamander disappears and Marcus leans back in his seat with a sigh.
"Any thoughts, my dear?"
"They think they've got something on you. Perez wouldn't have been that casual - or that confident - if he wasn't sure you'd come round to their way of thinking."
"Mm. Shouldn't wonder if you're right," he murmurs, before sitting up.
"Oh for fuck's sake, Theirn, get off the floor. At least till we get back to the house."
"Sorry. Wasn't sure if they were watching or not."
He moves into the seat opposite Marcus, gazing at the smoked glass of the window.
"Oh, they'd like to, of course." Marcus waves a hand, irritably. "I don't particularly like having my private life spied on, however, and my... allies... are aware of my preferences. Admittedly it would be far safer for you to assume we are being watched, unless I tell you we're not."
He smiles, faintly, looking somewhat tired.
"Should I assume that we're not, then?"
"For the moment, Theirn my dear, no. We are not."
"Good." His voice is calm, a little distant. "I don't like those people. But Perez is a good leader, and we should probably see that he stays in power."
"I think there were... four, I'd say, in that room who would be better off not remaining in power."
Marcus shrugs, a little, slouching and stretching out his legs.
"You ready for the other meeting?"
"I'll be ready when I have to be."
True enough; his magic will see to that.
Marcus smiles, faintly, and it's not a particularly happy smile.
"Your cheek all right?"
He lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug.
"I've had worse. It'll heal."
"That's not entirely reassuring," Marcus says, softly.
He looks at Marcus then, a slightly sardonic smile on his face.
"It hurt, but I'll deal with it. It was necessary."
Marcus smiles back, briefly, but it fades quickly, as he turns to look out the window.
"-- it would probably be better, as I'm sure you've realized, if it stayed visible."
"I know. And healing magic doesn't work on me anyhow, so that's not really an issue."
"You've your own, at least," he points out quietly.
"It's not particularly strong at the best of times, and it doesn't tend to work well on me. They're pretty sure it's because of the way my system assimilates things. I mean, I could heal the bruise, sure, but it's not really worth it for the energy it'd take."
Marcus smiles again, slightly, almost bittersweet, for all that he's still looking out the window.
"Just as well, then, I suppose," he murmurs softly.
"Mmm."
After a few minutes: "will you need me for anything when we get back? I'm sort of tired."
Marcus shakes his head, not looking up yet.
"-- just remember to stay in character before you're inside. I'll have them sweep the rooms, make sure they're clear, but until then..."
"I know."
He looks out the window, absently rubbing his cheek lightly.
"Remember, we have to leave quite early in the morning to get to the other meeting."
The car pulls to a stop in front of the house, and Marcus reaches across to grab his gloves, tugging them on again.
"I'll see you then, all right?"
"I know. I'm just going to shower and get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
He waits for Marcus to get out of the car, following him in with his gaze lowered.
Marcus pauses in the front hall, once the door is shut behind Theirn, and summons several salamanders.
He doesn't move until they report back that the house is clean, and he smiles again, unguarded but tired, as he hangs his hat and cane by the door.
"Bon nuit, mon cher," he murmurs absently, removing his gloves again as he crosses the room to the hall leading to his room.
"Sleep well." He's already shrugging out of the black shirt as he heads to the bathroom. "I'll see you in the morning."